Tobias scrambled up and over the couch too, more clumsily, more slowly, and Sullivan had, fortunately, been facing them, so he had a half-second to react, and that was probably what saved his life—because Ghost was swinging a knife—where the hell had he gotten a knife?—and Tobias was going to be too late, he was going to be too late...
Tobias heard Sullivan’s grunt of pain a split second before Tobias’s body collided with Ghost’s, taking them both to the floor. He tried to go for Ghost’s knife hand, but he wasn’t good at fighting, and he probably missed, but Ghost wasn’t struggling anyway. Tobias had a vague impression that he’d taken Ghost down with enough force to knock the wind out of him, or maybe he hit his head, but either way, he lay under Tobias still and skinny, uncomfortable as a bag of sticks, his chest heaving, eyes dazed and Tobias realized he was saying, “I asked him to, I like it, I want it, they’re mine, I asked him to.”
He trailed off, thinking Sullivan, and wondering if he dared get up without restarting Ghost’s violence. He’d gotten lucky, he knew that much. It had never occurred to Ghost that Tobias would have the nerve to intervene, but if Ghost knew to anticipate Tobias’s interference, Tobias wouldn’t get lucky again.
So he repeated, “I asked him to.”
“Because he brainwashed you,” Ghost said, staring up at him with something old and conflicted and weary in his face. “He made you think this is what you should want, but you don’t...you don’t like this. You can’t.”
“I’m not you,” Tobias whispered. “I like different things. I like how it feels. All your time doing what you do, and you’ve never known someone who likes it? Stay down, please. Let me go to him.”
“No, you’re good. You don’t want this.”
Tobias flinched. On some level he knew this was more about Ghost’s issues than his own, but it still cut deep. “If it makes me bad—and it doesn’t, but if it did—it would still be my choice.”
“I can’t let you—”
“I’m not asking for permission,” Tobias said, and he was so tired of all of it, tired of not having his footing, not having his wishes respected, and he shook Ghost a little, making those green eyes widen. “You don’t have to understand it, Ghost, but this isn’t your call, and it’s not your business. I’m the only one who gets to decide what I do in bed. Stay down.”
And after a long second, Ghost nodded.
Tentatively, Tobias got up. He nudged the bloody knife—God, that was way too much blood—away from Ghost’s hand with one careful foot before edging his way over to Sullivan. He never turned his back on Ghost, but it didn’t turn out to be necessary. Ghost stayed slumped on the floor, watching them.
Tobias’s first glance at Sullivan was half-panicked, and the blood took him the rest of the way there. Sullivan had it all over his upper body and his thighs, his hand clamped over the wound in his forearm that he couldn’t quite cover.
“I find your buddy’s shovel talk crude but effective,” Sullivan said.
“Mwen bezwen yon bagay pi blese sa a.” Tobias fell to his knees at Sullivan’s side.
“English,” Sullivan reminded him.
“I—I need a thing for the cut.” He tore his shirt off and wrapped it tightly around the wound, then pushed that arm up over Sullivan’s head to let gravity lend a hand. He put all of his weight on the injury, using direct pressure to stop the bleeding and making Sullivan bite out a curse. “Hold still. Where are your keys?”
“Upstairs. Why?” Sullivan said blankly.
“I’m taking you to the emergency room.”
“No, you’re not.”
“You’re bleeding!”
“I know, but hospitals have to report criminal conduct. If they even suspect this is a knife wound, they’ll call the cops.”
“They’re not going to know. We’ll...we’ll tell them it’s from glass. You broke a glass. They’ll buy it.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. We don’t know for sure, so we can’t go.”
“You need stitches.” Tobias could feel his throat closing.
“Yup.” Sullivan took Tobias’s hand with his good one. “But even if I don’t get them, I’ll still be fine. I’m not going to bleed to death. Stop biting a hole in your lip, sweetheart.”
“I’m not.” Tobias totally was. He felt vaguely nauseated and lightheaded, but there was one other option. He glanced over at where Ghost still lay on the floor, watching them closely. “I need you to go upstairs and get my keys and my phone.”
“But if you go to the emergency room, who’s going to babysit me to make sure I’m not committing acts of evil?” Ghost asked snidely, even as he got to his feet.
“I will,” came a female voice from the direction of the front door, and Tobias turned his head to see a tall golden-skinned woman in a stunning navy suit was standing there.
“Hi, Raina,” Sullivan said, sounding tired. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Did you really think you I wouldn’t show up after that voicemail you left me yesterday?”
“I think you should give back my house key.”
“But I’m in the nick of time.” Raina perched on the arm of the sofa. “It certainly looks like you could use my help.” She surveyed Ghost from tip to toe where he stood at the foot of the stairs. “This would be the Ghost in question, I assume.”
Ghost studied her in turn. Raina was intimidating, from her regal posture to the arrogant tilt of her
